Jack
by whitefire
Summary: Inspired by the 1st scene of Red Dragon - Different premise and characters


Jack

The conversation confused Jack. Rhodenburg seemed logical, but there was something subtly twisted in his words; Jack couldn't place the error. He figured the wine was getting to him so he shakily set his glass down on Rhodenburg's mahogany desk. A drop of the red wine spilt over its edge and trundled slowly down towards the stem of the delicately formed crystal. The rainbow light encompassing the glass spun to the beat of the lecture.

"I must be really drunk," Jack thought, bemused. Funny, the alcohol showed little effect on Rhodenburg. Jack smiled, even more confused.

Rhodenburg paused mid-thought at the smile ghosting across Jack's face. He smiled as well, patronizingly. It bothered Jack.

Rhodenburg interrupted himself, "I surmise it is too late in the evening to extend our conversation and further."

"Patronizing was definitely the word," Jack decided to himself. He stood and Rhodenburg rose to assist him as he fumbled to put on his coat. Jack allowed him to straighten the leather collar as he stood there, thinking. Rhodenburg brushed his hands over Jack's shoulders, smoothing the material before resting his hands there firmly.

"I am proud of how far you have come. I am certain the answer to our problem is not far off."

Jack glanced up, quizzically. Was it just the wine, or had he noticed hesitation and doubt in Rhodenburg's words? Like something lethal boiling over, veiled by apathy. The considered each other in silence for several minutes. Jack felt his mind slowing, dizzied by the alcohol.

Rhodenburg's face sparked suddenly, his eyes menacing, teeth bared. Jack blinked in fear and tried to pull away, but no – Rhodenburg's face shown only with sudden realization. He held Jack possessively. 

"Your book, let me retrieve it for you."

"Oh, ah, right, yeah sure…" Jack flushed, feeling rather stupid as Rhodenburg released him and headed into the kitchen.

"I read it last night. Fascinating theories on criminal pathology," he shouted through the door.

Jack glanced around the study. He remembered spending hours here as a child. He brushed his hands over the thickly bound novels. He had been in awe of the fantastical names of the books – Paradise Lost, Dante's Inferno, War of the Worlds… Even the medical books had astounded him. He ran a finger over their deep red bindings.

Rhodenburg's voice penetrated his conscious again: "Your ideas on the Lyle case were enlightening – the way you assumed the killer's state of mind."

Jack noticed a faded orange book he did not remember. He pulled it from the bookcase and read its title – Poisons of the Olde World. He flipped through the pages until he found a handwritten notation. _Belladonna – untraceable if mixed with alcohol_.

A voice beside him made him jump.

"Too bad you weren't quick enough."

"What?" Jack stammered.

"To save the young woman."

"Oh," Jack said as he closed the book and turned to him. Rhodenburg looked up from the book and offered him a glass.

"Drink for the road?"

He smiled.

Jack shrugged and took the glass. His hand shook as Rhodenburg poured him a shot of whiskey. It spilt over his hand and drops fell onto the tiles. Jack mumbled an apology and bent to wipe it up. Rhodenburg caught his arm – "It's alright. I'll take care of it," he said forcefully. He placed the bottle on the bookcase and held up his glass. Jack looked up at him then down at his own glass. He held it out.

Jack swung his head back, downing the liquid. It tasted light and sweet. He glanced at the bottle.

"I don't think this is whiskey." He thoughts began to bubble. "You havin' yours?"

Rhodenburg set his full glass beside the bottle. He picked up the orange book and flipped through it.

"You know Jack, you drink too much," he voice was full of disgust.

Jack looked up at him, startled. A wave of heat and nausea descended upon him and he sank to his knees, grabbing hold of the bookcase.

Rhodenburg returned the book and sighed.

"Both time you were so close to discovery. If you had only delved a little deeper you would have found the murderers."

"Both?" Jack questioned, swaying.

Rhodenburg grasped the front of Jack's coat and lifted him up. "Even now it is still beyond you. Stupid boy."

Jack clung weakly to his arm, trying to pull him off.

"Please, Rhoden-"

Rhodenburg slapped him across the face. "You foolish child, you waste what little time you have left."

"Why are you doing this?" Jack cried out. He then collapsed weakly against Rhodenburg, wheezing. He felt himself thrust against the bookcase. Pain lanced down his spine as his head slammed into the shelves. He dropped the glass, which shattered on the floor. He stared at it in horror.

Jack forced himself to look Rhodenburg in the eye. "Poison?" His voice trailed off helplessly.

Rhodenburg patted the side of Jack's face, "Good boy. Perhaps you're not as useless as I thought." He stepped back, releasing Jack, who crumpled to the floor. Jack let out a sob of pain and sadness as he landed on the shards of glass.

"I trusted you, sir. Why?"

"Why? Get into my head, child, and you tell me why."

Jack closed his eyes, trying to concentrate while a deep pounding in his head began. "Cleaning up your…tracks," he coughed. Rhodenburg closed his eyes. "Disposing of loose ends," they said together. "I was your student," Jack groaned.

"My prodigy."

"But I was too strong to be controlled by you."

"Too weak to follow."

"No. I am the only one who can resist you."

"But you blinded yourself to what I truly was; blocking the idea that it was your teacher who was leading you astray."

"You killed the other officers, how could you? They were your friends – your equals."

Rhodenburg grabbed a fistful of Jacks hair and snapped his head back, shouting, "I have no equal!"

Jack twisted his arm back, thrusting a shard of glass into Rhodenburg's neck. Blood fell onto Jack's face. Rhodenburg slammed Jack's head into the pile of glass. He snapped it back again. Glass was buried in his forehead and cheeks. 

"Foolish boy," Rhodenburg whispered in his ear.

Jack twisted, kicking Rhodenburg off. He rose to run only to fall to his hands and knees, sick and wheezing. Rhodenburg flung himself on top of Jack, his hands wound around his neck. Jack collapsed. He felt warm blood spilling down his neck.

"I won't let you win," Jack choked out. He swung his elbow back, making contact with the glass, and slicing his skin. Rhodenburg released Jack; both lay gasping for breath.

Jack rose again, struggling towards the phone. He heard Rhodenburg drag himself towards him. Jack lifted the phone, clinging to the wall for support. He dialed 9-1-1 and listened to the ring. He didn't hear Rhodenburg anymore. A voice on the line spoke: "9-1-1 Emergency."

"Bell…adonna…" Jack choked out. "I've been…poisoned!" The phone dropped from his hand. He convulsed and fell, unconscious, into the arms of his dead teacher.


End file.
